Candles
by sockstar
Summary: Carly tries to save Freddie from Sam's abuse before it kills him. This is rated M for themes of abuse and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Candles**

**Rating: **M

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**Summary: **Carly tries to save Freddie from Sam's abuse before it kills him. This is rated M for themes of abuse and violence.

**Do not read if you cannot handle an dark interpretation of a Seddie relationship.**

This will be 3 chapters.

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Knock. Knock. The door to apartment 8-D stayed firmly shut.

"Freddie, Ms Benson are you home?"

Nothing.

I struggled with my bag slipping down my shoulder, as I tried to fit the metal key into the lock. The latch opened with a click. I flopped down onto the couch, exhaling as I did so, exhausted after the long bus trip back from Yakima. I needed to clear my head, get some advice, and had come back a day early to say what I needed to say.

I was in love with Freddie.

The inside of my mouth was dry, my lips cracked. In my haste to return home, I hadn't brought any water with me, and the bus trip was short enough that we didn't stop, but long enough that my thirst had become uncomfortable. I took a cab home from the bus terminal straight away. I didn't want to waste any time, Freddie had been waiting so long.

I dropped the cup into the sink, blasted it with the spray gun, rinsing it clean. I felt a little better, not thirsty any more at least.

I called Freddie. It rang out. Figures. The one moment above all others that Freddie needed to pickup, and he didn't have his phone. I left a message telling him I wanted to talk to him straight after he got the message.

I called Sam. It rang out. Knowing her it was probably broken.

Collapsing back onto the couch, I scratched my chin, and looked out into space, wondering just what to do next. I decided to go to the Groovy Smoothie, they might be having lunch. If I happened to find Freddie, I wanted it to be as perfect as it could be, so I started up the stairs so I could shower and change.

As I was coming up the stairs I heard a noise like a groan or something, maybe I left the TV on.

I ambled over to the door, left slightly ajar, and I pushed it open. The scene before me made my heart skip a beat.

Her long blond hair. His short brown hair. Sam was on top of him, rocking back and forth, moaning his name. Sam had always said she liked to be in control... but that wasn't what I pictured. Freddie's eyes were rolled into the back of his head, his tongue had slipped out the side of his mouth. His hands were holding onto the bed sheets and I could see his toes curled up under the blanket that was sparing me from the worst of their nakedness.

I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. Freddie could barely tolerate being in the same room as Sam. Now Freddie was _in_ Sam. I managed to squeak out a strangled cry of shock, Freddie's eyes shot open, wide with panic and they broke apart.

I fled. I sprinted. Out of my room, out of the apartment, down the stairs, past Lewbert screeching in my ears. I ran block after block, bashing and bumping into people on the street, not even waiting to hear their cries and protests.

I ran until I reached the park. I was shattered. I dropped into the wooden bench, with my head in my hands for what seemed like hours, until Freddie lowered himself into the seat next to me.

It was so subtle that I hadn't even noticed. One moment Freddie was the friendly kid with a boyhood crush on me who promised his everlasting love for me. Then he was Freddie, my confidant next door, my shoulder to cry on, who would occasionally remind me of how beautiful I was. How I didn't deserve the jerks.

All those times I'd told him we were 'buds'. All those times I'd told him we were 'just friends'. Those times I'd told him he was my best friend. I meant every word.

All those times I'd told him he needed to get over 'this crush thing'.

My wish came true.

The promises he made faded away.

When it was just me and him, I realized too late that I couldn't deny it any longer. Freddie. I'd fallen in love with him. It was like two candles burning down. My candle was built from the idea that I couldn't risk our friendship, every moment, every touch, every compliment, every restless night thinking about how I could make him happy, that heat was melting my heart.

His was built on the idea that I would eventually love him back. His candle flickered out just before mine did. He figured out that I wouldn't love him back.

And so he gave up, and tried to move on.

But I didn't see it whilst it was happening. On reflection, I could pick out some minute changes. Freddie was just as courteous, helpful, as good a friend as he had been before. The fact that I was still falling in love with him even as he was falling out of love with me was proof of that.

I discovered that yes, I really was in love with him. It wasn't simple jealously over the few girls he'd gone out with. It wasn't just because he was always there for me, or that I felt I owed him a chance.

My last minute doubts, the shifting visions of futures with him, where I'd lost my best friend, but gained a partner and lover. Some where I stopped myself, and we stayed best friends. The night before Spencer was going to visit my Grandfather in Yakima (He trusted me enough that I could stay on my own for a few days, as long as I didn't have any parties), I succumbed to a dark, twisted nightmare in which I ruined our relationship, then our friendship, and he left for good. I decided to clear my head to sort out my swirling feelings and emotions.

I left with Spencer early in the morning, leaving a note on the Benson's door, saying I'd be back in 3 days, and if he or Sam needed anything, that they had a spare key and were free to use it.

I asked and received some grandfatherly advice. He met his wife, my grandmother, at a dance to celebrate the end of the war. He'd been so scared, anxious, he was nearly at the age that it was expected of him to enlist. Even if he was 2 years younger than the minimum age, they didn't check records at all. A few of his older friends had already signed up. Many of their brothers and fathers had fought. Not all of them came home. They were as young as I was, as Freddie was. He was lucky, he said. His father fought in WW1 when he was younger.

Instead of being shipped out, they danced. It would sound like such a cliché today, but back then that was how most people met their wives. They met each others gaze across the room, he stepped over, and invited her to dance. It was love at first sight. It doesn't compared to dancing in the Groovy Smoothie, with my best friend, who wasn't even my date, but I still took his advice. If I loved him, I needed to tell him.

I asked Spencer if I could go back a day early. I took the bus back down.

The realization as to who he moved on with was like being hit with bucket of ice cold water filled with electric eels. I hadn't been prepared for what I witnessed when I walked into my own bedroom.

"In my own bedroom. On my own _bed._" I whispered from between my hands, taking care not to speak loud enough that all the kids, and random people in the park could overhear.

"We are sorry about that. That.. was a mistake. I better call Sam, tell her to go back to her house or something, she was worried sick when you ran out. You can talk with her later."

"Which part are you sorry about? Sleeping with Sam without telling me, or screwing on my bed?"

The question stung Freddie, his feet shuffled, and his face fell, clearly shamed, "This only started yesterday Carly, and we couldn't reach you. We were going to tell you the moment you got back."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

I didn't want to ask, but I must have looked like I wanted to know more, so he filled me in on what happened. The day I left for Yakima, Sam got bored and went to see what Freddie was doing. The subject quickly rolled around to our non-relationship.

"I sighed, I told her that I was over you." He hesitated, "I dunno, that I couldn't keep pining over someone who only liked me as a friend."

He turned his head to me, "You know how much I want to be your friend right? Don't think I'm making light of what we do have together. I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything in the world."

"I know Freddie, neither would I," Except for you to be in love with me again, "You were safe right?"

"I wouldn't have done it otherwise."

"That wasn't your first time?"

"No." I felt a little better, the last thing I wanted was to have ruined that singular moment. I know I wouldn't want my first time, whenever that happened, to go so horribly wrong like that.

"Was it this weekend though?"

"Yeah."

"Who made the first move?"

"Sam." I fought back tears, willing myself not to cry, but I couldn't stop myself thinking that Sam had stolen him from me. But that wasn't her fault.

"Is it like the kiss?"

"No. We're together now."

And that was what killed me inside. I couldn't get between them. Doing so would be ruinous, breaking every girl code written since the first cave woman put on a dress made of leopard skin. Instead of trying to avoid his face, I just leaned into him and hugged him.

"I'm assuming this means I'm not going to get banned from ever visiting again." So I went back to being his best friend.

"You won't be stepping in my room for a very long time though. And you owe me new sheets. And pillows. And blankets. And a new bed." He chuckled, just lightly enough to tell me he knew I didn't find it especially funny.

"You wanna go get a smoothie? My treat."

"Okay." He drew himself up and out of the chair, covering the sun and throwing me into darkness. Freddie took my hand, and pulled me up to him.

"Carly. You left me a message saying you need to talk to me about something?"

I paused for a moment, "Um... I thought I lost a book, I was going to ask if you'd seen it. I need to return it back to the library."

A slowness overcame his voice, "I haven't seen any out of place books."

"Never mind."

We ambled back in the direction I'd fled from hours ago, and pretty soon everything was back to normal.

For a while at least.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: **This story will likely be 4 chapters, and perhaps an epilogue.

Thanks to reviewers,** fbnk-luv**, **Princess7Strawberry**, **PerennialKillJoy**, **teasers**, **Drag0nL0rd** and **j.**

**Addie: **That's the million dollar question. You wouldn't want to be spoiled now would you? I'd welcome everyone's thoughts on this (Creddie or just Carly/Freddie friendship). Regardless of what happens, it's not going to be fluffy rainbows and sunshine.

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Freddie never hit back. No matter how bad she got, no matter how much pain she inflicted. Freddie would just wait. Until her rage subsided. They didn't start that way. They were happy. For months. Or maybe it was happening already, but Freddie was able to hide it. Maybe I wasn't as good a friend as I thought I was.

Wendy was the first clear, unmistakable sign to me that something was wrong.

All Freddie was doing was talking to her about a English assignment that was due the following week. Sam stormed over, grabbed Freddie by the collar and threw him to the ground. Sam towered over him, warned him not to flirt with other girls, before lifting him up and slamming him against the locker. The anger in her eyes quickly subsided as Freddie looked back at her. With love. Sam said a few words of apology to Freddie, and they started making out in front of me.

The next day I asked him what it was about. "Oh, just a misunderstanding. It's cool." And I didn't think much of it. They looked like a regular, normal couple. They fought sometimes, but they fought as badly before they got together. Sometimes worse. I thought it was just the same old Freddie and Sam at the time, but that ignorance didn't last.

What could I do? Would the police care? Would they even believe me?

Freddie had become practiced at lying, he could avoid gym classes, he could bluff his way through the doctors appointments. I caught him hacking into the Doctor's office through a school computer once. I didn't know he was that good. He also convinced his mother to give him more space. It involved being naked with Sam, handcuffs, a blueberry pie and a large wooden spoon.

What if they did believe me? Sam would go to jail. Freddie would hate me. I didn't want Sam to go to jail, or Freddie to hate me. I asked Spencer for some advice, the entire wording shuffled, hidden, obscured, until only the very core problem remained.

"Freddie and Sam aren't doing drugs are they?" Even Spencer had noticed how things had changed. He'd even had a quick word to Freddie once, man to man, asking if he was really doing all those things Sam would randomly accuse him of.

Even though I'd changed the names, it was blatantly obvious.

"No, it's not that."

"It's not you right? I know sometimes it can be hard growing up, but no matter what happens, I'll always support you sis." Spencer looked at me with love, affection. I sometimes thought about my mother and father, how I'd lost her, and then I'd lost him.

"Thanks, I know you will, but it's not me. I just don't know what to do." I pleaded, needing something, anything, to help me get Freddie back from Sam.

"People can't be helped unless they want to. You can't force someone to change, or even to ask for help. They have to admit there is a problem. Just pray that they realize before it hurts them or the people around them."

Spencer had taken up his responsibilities at such a young age. Even though sometimes it was like I was taking care of him, I know in my heart it's really the other way around.

Spencer wants to shield me from the hate and anger and pain in the world. Spencer knows it's out there, helps me through it when it comes into our lives, but prefers to focus on the good.

Spencer acts the way he does because to act otherwise would let the crushing hurt take over our lives.

Losing our mother.

Losing our father.

Spencer losing the woman he loved.

I thought she loved Spencer for who he was. Her hair was long, straight, and jet black. She was tall, or at least I remember her towering over me whenever she came over to visit Spencer. And she was so smart. Smarter than even Freddie. I wanted to be like her when I grew up. Then one day she was gone.

Our grandfather wasn't the only one who disapproved of his leaving law school. But at least he accepted it the end.

Spencer wasn't always able to hold it in. 'Going to see Socko', most of the time was code for 'going out to get smashed', or 'getting high' as often as it really meant hanging out, and the succession of one-night stands and 2 week long failed relationships made me wonder if he even wanted to fall in love again. But he was always there for me, no matter what.

Spencer was rarely conventional. The conversation that followed the joint falling out of his pants when we were doing the washing went along the lines of 'you don't have to do anything like this if you don't want to, but if you ever want to try, tell me, and I'll make sure you are safe about it'.

That talk was over dinner (he wanted Sam and Freddie to be there, because it involved them as well) a few days after. The more conventional part was the warning that weed was the only drug he would do this with, because everything else could be so dangerous and potentially deadly. We had to promise not to take pills, watch our drinks if we went to parties, and if we got drunk or in trouble, to call Spencer and he would pick us up without hesitation. I know he pulled Freddie away for a guy talk later, and it was why Freddie always stayed with me right until I wanted to leave.

I resented it for a while, knowing that Freddie was always hovering, that restriction had pissed me off for a while. It was the cause of our biggest fight, long before Freddie had given up on me, before I'd fallen in love with him, and before Sam seduced him.

I wanted Freddie to leave me alone for a while so I could go to some parties on my own, Freddie said he just wanted to keep me safe. I yelled at him, accusing him of being jealous and that his goal was to stop guys from talking, touching or making out with me, and that it was none of his business if I did any of those things if I wanted to. Freddie told Spencer when I lied to him and went to a party without telling anyone.

Spencer grounded me for a month to show just how seriously he took it. The fight went on for the length of the grounding, and long into the next month.

The wake-up call I needed was hearing the rumors about a freshman girl getting raped at a party hosted by a senior. I really hoped they weren't true, but in my heart I knew that it happened to someone, even if it wasn't the girl everyone was talking about. Rhona, of all people, told us about it.

We both looked at Rhona, weakly nodded our heads, then we turned to face each other.

The looks we gave each other ended the fight right then and there. No resentment, no jealousy, just an unspoken apology from me, a relieved acceptance from Freddie, and a hug to go back to normal.

After finishing the talk with Spencer, I went across the hall, to spend some time with Freddie, to talk about anything but his relationship with Sam. Galaxy Wars, being almost half-way through our 2nd last year of school, his nerdy tech stuff I didn't understand half the time but I still loved to hear him talking about because he lit up when I took an interest in his techy stuff, and some ideas for the show.

Freddie asked me how I was doing, if I liked any new guys (I did), if I was going to ask the lucky guy out (He had a girlfriend), and that he was sorry to hear that (so was I). It hurt so badly. My sight shimmered with a watery haze, and I wept a little.

"Come on Carly, he can't be that great, not if he's with this girlfriend of his, and not you." He reached over and the few tears that rolled down my cheeks were padded away by his thumb.

He was so wrong I laughed out loud.

"Right as always Freddie."

"That's the spirit. I hate it when you cry." I choked up again from his words. I wanted to blame it on fate, or karma, but that was just making excuses for my own behavior. It wasn't fate that kept rejecting Freddie, it wasn't karma that brought him and Sam together.

"I know how it feels. You aren't alone." Then he smiled, that warm compassionate smile.

"It's okay. I never feel alone when I'm with you."

We kept on conversing, sitting on his bed, my back against his bedroom wall. Talking, laughing, he could always make me laugh, whilst his keyboard clicked and clacked, writing up a book report.

It was just like it had been before. Before I went to Yakima, before that dance, and before Sam slept with him. Hours passed in a daze, after he finished the book report, we watched the blazing orange sunset from the fire escape.

"Should I try to break them up? Or try and get with the guy behind her back?"

Now it was Freddie's turn to laugh, "You're way too nice to do that."

I took a sip of my Preppy Cola before continuing, "What? I can't be bad sometimes?"

Freddie gave me that trademark, Carly melting (I'm glad I'm sitting already, because it makes my knees weak) smirk of his, "Are you serious? I know for a fact you would hate yourself for every moment you were with him behind her back. Plus you know how Sam felt after Jonah tried to cheat on her, and you wouldn't wish that pain on anyone. It's just too 'icky'."

"Right. It was silly idea."

"I'm paraphrasing a little, but a teacher once told me there are no silly ideas, just silly actions. As long as you keep the silly ideas from becoming silly actions, you don't have a problem. And I know you Carly, you wouldn't ever do anything like that, so don't worry about it."

"Have I ever told you how smart you are?"

And suddenly shy old Freddie was back, head dipped, a small blush creeping over his smiling face. Nothing more needed to be said. Time stood still under the glowing sunset, seemingly refusing to fall. Whilst I was here with Freddie it felt like nothing would change. Everything was right and good and pure.

It was majestic. Freddie taught me that word (or more accurately, I had to look it up in a dictionary), so long ago. During the love-poem stage of his crush on me. I've never told anyone, even Freddie, but I keep them all in the hope chest my mother left in my room, that was given to my mother by her mother.

Sam called. The sun blinked down in an instant, covering the world in sharp, harrowing darkness. I sat there with only the chair Freddie was sitting in before he left, watching the twinkling stars, until Ms Benson came home, saw me and asked if I was going to stay for dinner. I made my excuses and went back to the apartment.

The next day at school, Freddie tramped around, hiding a limp that he wasn't suffering from the night before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes: **

Thanks to reviewers,** FinaleUltimacian, creddie dude, iLove iCarly, Carl Rahl, anneryn7, PerennialKillJoy, Addie, ShatteredDiamonds, Drag0nL0rd, **and** ilovelovelove**.

PS: Sorry about the delay. I moved house, and thought it was going to happen a week later than it actually did. Next chapter will be the last. Also, if I haven't replied to your review, it means I've not caught up, or I thought I have already, so I apologise if I don't.

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I was in the middle of recording a skit for the website with Sam and Freddie. As usual, Freddie was recording, and me and Sam were the 'talent'. It was going well, until Freddie's arm went slack, nearly dropping the camera. It ruined the take. I once made a promise with Sam to never fight over a guy again.

But this wasn't _a guy_. It was _Freddie_.

"You useless sack of crap, can't you even hold the camera up anymore? You need to work out, get off that fucking computer. You make me sick. You're lucky I can put up with your shit, no other girl ever would."

Freddie just stood there and took it. Not even a word. "Freddie are you okay?" He glanced over to Sam quickly, and didn't speak, moving back to his tech cart to put the camera down. Even the simple task of putting the camera onto the cart caused him to wince in pain.

The silence was broken by the sharp buzz of his phone vibrating on the cart. Freddie picked it up, pushed a few buttons and put it back down. Sam spoke, fast, harsh accusingly, "Who was that?"

"It was nothing. Just a spam message." Sam obviously didn't believe him, but she turned around, to reset some of the props that we were using in the skit.

I stepped over, and opened the top couple of buttons on his shirt. He could have stopped me, but didn't.

Freddie was covered in bruises, fresh cuts and scars. I saw what I could only guess were the marks from a pair of stiletto heels, tiny welts the size of a coin, tracking across his chest. What sickened me the most were the cigarette burns. Sam was burning him. "Sam, you're killing him. You need to stop. You need help."

Sam ignored me, "It was that whore wasn't it Freddie?"

"Freddie loves you. He wouldn't ever cheat on you."

"I saw him with that slut Valerie. She was curling her hair, twisting it around, she had her hand on his shoulder. I made sure he wouldn't try it again."

"Don't you see what you are doing to him? You could crack his ribs. The cuts could get infected. He could get really sick. Don't you remember this is exactly what your father did?" Her eyes narrowed, her teeth clamped shut, and she stalked over and slapped me.

Sam's words hurt me more than sting of the slap itself. "You fucking bitch. I'm _nothing _like my father. If you were really my friend you would know. Tell her."

Freddie glanced around, looking at the ceiling, the ground, then right into my eyes. I looked straight back, with all the support, encouragement and outright love I could muster. All he had to do was ask, and I'll help, in any way possible.

"It's okay Carly. I shouldn't have been talking to her."

"Freddie please, don't do this. We can get help. Please let me help you." He shrugged me off and buttoned his shirt back up.

Sam came over, and jabbed me in the chest, "I never want to speak to you again. Let's go Freddie." Sam clamped her wrist around his arm, I could almost see the bruise forming. She walked Freddie into the elevator, then kissed him.

Before the doors closed, I watched Freddie, and he blinked, looking down at his feet. Within those sad, brown eyes, all I could see staring back at me was anguish, misery and shame.

* * *

I was sitting on my couch, watching the end of a sad, sappy movie. Freddie's arm was wrapped around me, comforting me whilst I cried a little. It wasn't fair, I wanted those arms around me forever, but I knew he would be leaving soon. I wonder if he could tell the tears were as much for him as for the movie.

"You don't have to go you know Freddie. Spencer's gone out with Socko for the night. You can stay with me, we can go to the store, then come back and have dinner together. I know how much you like doing that." I implored, I could see the fading welt of a bruise around his eye. It wasn't the only mark on his body.

I knew that for a fact, even if Freddie would tell me he fell down the stairs, or got hurt playing football. I could put my hand on 5 separate places on his chest alone, and he'd just so barely narrow his eyes, and draw in his next breath sharply.

The only football Freddie played was on his computer. He was as transparent to me as a sheet of glass.

Freddie took on an almost resigned toned, "Sam's my girlfriend, and she loves me." I couldn't understand how she could love Freddie, yet hurt him so so badly.

"Do you love her?" How could he, with what she does to him?

"I... need her."

"She hurts you Freddie. You can't love her, you simply can't. It's not right." Hurt sounded not even close to adequate to me. It was outright abuse. I knew it wasn't always spur of the moment either. Sam sometimes let her anger simmer, and it would boil over in planned, premeditated torture.

"I just need to be a better boyfriend." It was so wrong, he was the best boyfriend I'd ever seen. He did anything for Sam, went anywhere. Always listened to her, took her out, did whatever she wanted.

The movie finished, and Freddie stood up. I could tell he was favoring his right arm, trying to hide the fact it was hurting.

I was on the verge of tears, my voice cracking like nails on a chalkboard, "You can't go, don't leave me alone. Freddie, please.. for me?" Freddie stopped, paused for a moment, then continued out the door. He was gone, leaving only the subtle scent of his aftershave in his wake.

You need me more. I want to make you feel better. I want to love you. You need me more and you just haven't realized it yet

I cried.

For Freddie, for seeing him so brutally broken and controlled. He wasn't the same funny, charming (even if no-one else knew he was charming me) and intelligent friend that had always been beside me. That was my fault. I waited.

For Sam, that under that tough exterior, all her wisecracks and joking was hiding immense pain and suffering. That I was unable to help her, and now that suffering was crashing down onto another person.

For me. It was selfish, but I loved him. I didn't act fast enough, I let him twist in the wind even though I knew how much he wanted me. At least back then. The teases, the flirting, I couldn't help it. I didn't want to lose him. But I did anyway. All alone, my tears cascaded down my face, I didn't even try to stop them, I cried a torrent, pouring down. My tears tasted of wretched pain, helplessness and soured friendship.

I was sobbing, curled up on the couch, when I broke out of my reverie by the buzzing of my phone. Gibby. I didn't feel like answering, but I knew what it would be about. I had Freddie post a message on the iCarly site that the show was going on hiatus for an unspecified period of time.

I sent him a message, then I felt my stomach rumble, I'd had some popcorn with Freddie, but was hungry again. All alone. Again. I padded over to the fridge, looking in the freezer. Looks like it's Luigi's Meals for One tonight.

I chucked the box into the microwave, stuck it on for 3 minutes and waited. The light came on, the microwave pulsed with energy, and the little packet went round and round on the carousel. I took the lid off, stirred it around and threw it back in again, it would take about 5 more minutes.

I punched in the time, and as soon as I hit the START button, all the power in the apartment went off. No lights, no TV, no nothing.

I couldn't even cook a meal in the damn microwave without ruining it. Better add that to the list of things I can't do. Draw bunnies. Cook dinner. Help Freddie. What was Sam doing to him right now?

I haven't prayed since my mother's accident, but please God, if you are out there, keep Freddie safe. If anything happens to him, I don't know what I'll do.

I was fumbling around in the dark, under the kitchen bench, looking for the flashlight we usually kept in there. All I found was a piece of paper, a packet of matches and some candles. "It's better than nothing," I said to myself, and pulled out candles onto the desk. If I had to guess, I'd say the piece of paper was an I.O.U from Spencer, who had probably used the flashlight in a sculpture.

I lit a couple of them, put them in the candlesticks, and walked back over to the couch. Maybe I could listen to some music on my pearPod before I went to bed. I crawled onto the couch, put my head down. I couldn't even be bothered to turn on any music. I just wanted to sleep, and forget about Sam and Freddie for another night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes: **

Thanks to reviewers,** Princess7Strawberry, Carl Rahl, FinaleUltimacian **and anyone else who might have commented to me on the fic.

* * *

I was woken, by an harsh, insistent rapping on the apartment door. I shuffled over, looked through the peephole. Even though all I could see was an outline, I could tell who it was. The candles were still burning, but I could tell the power was back on, so I flicked on the lights, and opened the door. A draft gusted through the doorway and blew out the candles on the table.

"Freddie!" He was standing there, his face cut, both eyes bruised black and blue, his shirt torn, and I could tell he'd been crying. Sam had even managed to pull a clump of his hair out.

"Sam.. I left her." My relief was audible, tangible and written all over my face. I flung myself at him, burying my head in his chest with a hug.

We stood in the hallway for a minute, until I broke the hug. I grabbed Freddie and walked him over to the couch. He floundered, letting out a harsh sigh of pain as he did so.

"Freddie.. what happened? You look terrible.. do you want to go to the hospital?" I knew Freddie, and I knew that if he really thought he was badly injured, he'd have gone to the hospital on his own first.

"Thanks.. just what a guy likes to hear. No hospital. I'm sure they have better things to worry about at 3am than me. You know, stabbings, murders, that kinda thing. My mother has enough crap to worry about there tonight anyway." He chuckled, rasping and wheezing with every breath, like a 60 year old with smoker's cough.

"Freddie."

"Sam, said some things, and did some stuff. And I left her."

"You know I can't just accept that. You need to tell me what happened."

"I went over, and as soon as I opened the door she threw me on the floor, then started choking me. When I was about to pass out, she let go, and kissed me, telling me she was sorry. Fucking lies." Freddie was talking with venom, hate had a voice, and it was coming from my sweet Fredward. I couldn't help but hate Sam at that moment, for creating that venom, that hate, and causing it to spill out of his mouth.

"She always does that you know. Hurts me, then says sorry, then kisses me, then tells me how she was the only one who would put up with my crap, that she's just trying to make me a better person."

"Freddie, it's not your fault at all."

"When you hear it all the time, you start to believe it. I'm just glad you were there to tell me otherwise. I don't know what would have happened to me without you." I knew it probably wasn't the best thing, but I knew I was blushing, and I couldn't help it.

"What changed? Why did you leave now?"

"Sam.. she wanted me to stop seeing you. I told her she was being stupid. I didn't think, I just blurted it out. I thought she was going to kill me. Sam grabbed me and pushed me all over her house, all the time screaming that you were trying to poison me against her."

"You know I'd never do that." I could care less what Sam thinks, she's hurt him so much Sam doesn't get to decide who Freddie spends time with anymore.

Freddie took in a long breath, then exhaled, "Eventually we ended up in her bedroom, and she tried to kiss me. I tried to push her away, and she tore my shirt. I got my feet under her, and kicked her into the wall and ran to the car." I breathed a sigh of relief, that meant Sam wouldn't be able to come over for a while at least. She had no car of her own, no money for a cab, and no-one would take her in their own car.

He started to explain further, but his phone started ringing. "I can't talk to her Carly."

I tentatively reached over, and took the phone. I pushed the little green button to open the line.

"Freddie? Get your ass back over here right now. I just want to talk, we can igno-"

"It's not Freddie."

"Carly?"

"No shit. Where else do you think Freddie would go?"

"Put him on."

"No. You aren't going to talk to him, or see him, or anything until you get help."

"Pfft, I don't need any help. Mama takes care of herself."

"Cut the crap Sam. You've been taking out your problems on him. It's not fair."

"Whatever. I'm coming over. Tell Freddie to be ready to leave or there's going to be a real problem."

"If you come anywhere near me or Freddie, I'll call the cops."

"You wouldn't." The phone connection couldn't mask the shock in Sam's voice, like I was betraying her with even the threat itself.

I took a deep breath, and continued, "I will. I'm not going to let Freddie out of my sight, if you come near us, I'll go to the cops, I've got pictures of what you've done to him."

"Anyone could have done that. You haven't got any proof." Now Sam was nonchalant, he usual behavior when caught out.

"I've got a video." It was true. Freddie had left a camera on by accident, and it recorded Sam shoving Freddie to the ground and kicking him in the ribs 5 times. They didn't notice the camera blinking as it recorded, but after I came back from the bathroom, I did, and I noticed Freddie clutching his side.

"You're bluffing."

"I don't want you in jail. You need help Sam. You won't get that locked up."

"I don't need any fucking help!" Sam shouted down the line.

"I don't care what you think. You aren't coming near me, or Freddie, until you get the help you need. I'll help you in any way if you ask, but until you ask, this is goodbye. I'm going to make sure you don't hurt him ever again."

Freddie took the phone out of my hand.

His voice was calm, neutral, drained of emotion, "I don't love you anymore Sam. If you come near us, I'll tell them everything. Get help. Goodbye Sam." With that, he ended the call, and turned the power off.

"Thank you Carly." He said matter-of-factly.

"It's okay. I meant what I said, I'm not leaving you alone anymore. You're here now, that's all that matters." I leaned over and hugged him, he threw his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. I felt him wrap his arms around me, and we held each other, holding our breath, like we were afraid to let go of each other or continue.

We breathed out simultaneously, and I sat there, watching Freddie, his mouth kept opening, then closing.

His head kept tilting to the side, eyebrows going up and down, clearly thinking about his next words.

"Freddie?"

"Carly, I'm not really sure how I should say this, but I need to know if it's true." He sounded stern, yet his shaking voice betrayed just how much he wanted me to be truthful.

"Always." I placed my hand in his, and I felt the pulse in his thumb beating.

Freddie looked at me. I met his gaze, seeing his eyes glisten as he prepared, the little flecks of color were mesmerizing, piercing into my soul. I've only looked at Freddie this closely once before, and it killed me when I moved to rest my head against his shoulder. That night he'd looked at me, and I'd see pure love, respect and hope. I knew that if I kept staring into him, I'd have kissed him right there in the Groovy Smoothie. But my heart hadn't melted yet. If only I'd just pushed my dou-

No! There was no sense in replaying that night's events in my head, what is done is done, and no amount of wishing will bring that back.

This time, I saw pain, hurt, yet I saw that hope still burning inside. Freddie was still gathering his courage, I didn't know if he was going to ask me the question, or try to kiss me. I'd be okay with both at this point.

"Freddie, what is it? You can tell me anything."

He nodded curtly, and opened his mouth, "Carly... are you in love with me?"

I gasped audibly, and before I could control my reaction to the question he continued, "It's okay if you aren't, but Sam said to me, before I left, that you were just jealous of the love we had. She warned me Carly. Not that I'd come crawling back, but that you would lie to me and didn't really love me. That you just wanted to destroy her."

"Are you still in love with Sam?"

"No. You're right Carly, I can't be in love with someone who hurts me so badly. I was for a while. But not now. Not for a while now." I felt like he wanted to add more, but his mouth snapped shut.

And that was all I needed to hear. I leaned over, and kissed him. After a few moments, being frozen by the shock, Freddie closed his eyes and turned his head slightly, and what had been me kissing him had turned into us kissing each other.

About a minute into the kiss, he roughly pushed me away, and started to run for the door. I chased after him, grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. I shrieked, as he drew his fist back like he was going to punch me. "Oh my god Carly!"

His eyes turned soft, but it took some moments for his hand to drop. "I'm so sorry, it was just a reaction, I didn't mean it, I'm still a little on edge. I'd never hurt you Carly."

"I know."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. For everything. You've helped me so much, you don't even know."

"Why did you run?"

"I panicked. Sam's words flashed into my head and they scared me. That you might be lying to hurt Sam. Then I remembered who I was kissing. You Carly. You'd never hurt me like that. I'm okay now."

"What Sam said, it isn't true. I'm not doing this because of her. I'm doing this for you."

"I feel like I owe you, more than I could ever repay. You saved me." Freddie reached up, cradling my cheek in his hand. He was staring intently into my eyes, and I shied away.

"Carly. Look into my eyes. Tell me now. I need to see for myself. I need more than that kiss." His other arm held me by the waist, and he slowly pulled me into an embrace.

I looked up straight into his waiting eyes. The hope I'd always seen was shining strong as ever, and I knew I could give him the justification for that hope.

"I love you Freddie." I held my body against him, as his hand moved around to the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

We both pushed towards each other, and we kissed again, desperate for contact and feeling to return, our mouths opened, my tongue meeting his. Freddie started off very passively, not really moving, allowing me to dictate our pace, even his hands hadn't moved. I stopped for a moment to let Freddie know he could touch me back.

It wasn't long before our shirts where left in a little heap beside us. His hands roamed my hair, face, gliding over my bra a few times as well, and it was when I reached down to unbuckle his pants that Freddie took my hands in his and told me to stop.

"We can't Carly, can we?"

"You don't want to?"

Freddie looked back at me like he was weighing up a debate in his head. I lightly kissed his lips once more, and that ended the internal conflict.

"How far do you want to go Carly?" He asked bashfully.

"I've waited so long for you Freddie, I want you. All of you." I wanted my words to sound provocative, erotic even, but instead they escaped my mouth with timidity and shyness. I looked down at the floor waiting for his reaction.

He nodded an affirmative. "We'll take it slow Carly, stop me straight away if you don't like something I do or I go too fast or whatever." He knew it was going to be my first time, throughout this he was still my best friend, and I still told him everything.

I led him by the hand up the stairs to my room, and I showed him that love and passion shouldn't always start or end with pain, hurt and suffering. Freddie was gentle, caring and he mesmerized me. I didn't expect it to feel so good, as we started out very awkwardly. Freddie made sure I was comfortable every step of the way. After we finished, he turned to me and smiled as we lay snuggled together.

There were no words. I couldn't expect them so soon. They would come in time. Yet as always, I knew what he was thinking from his eyes. Love, contentment, joy. No hint of shame, depression or hidden anguish. The sparkle of life was back in the warm brown eyes that could peer into my soul. That was enough for me.

I've started to get the real Freddie back.

It's all I ever wanted.

**end**

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**AN:** I mentioned a potential epilogue, but I don't really feel it needs one. I guess it's up to the readers to decide for themselves what happened to Sam in the aftermath. Maybe I might even try a dark Sam-centric sequel!

Thanks to all the reviewers, the readers, and especially thanks to Ramsey, who provided me with the inspiration in a round-a-bout way for this story. 3

I should probably say something else, if you suspect or know of domestic violence, then report it, get help, and fix the problem.

Thanks for reading.


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